


A Hero For the Dead

by Myshkin_The_Fool



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Crossover, F/M, Marvel Universe, Master of Death (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 12:42:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20528216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myshkin_The_Fool/pseuds/Myshkin_The_Fool
Summary: The horcrux hunt fell apart with the loss of one of the golden trio.  An unfortunate series of events at the Ministry of Magic quite literally drives Harry into a new world.  Once there, he must come to terms with his changing powers and his new place in the world.First attempt at first-person perspective.  Give it a try and let me know what you think.





	A Hero For the Dead

**Author's Note:**

> A few things to note:
> 
> 1\. I don't know how necessary it is to mention this, but obviously I don't own any of these familiar characters.
> 
> 2\. The entire chapter 1 takes place in a slightly AU Harry Potter world. (Only major change is that Ron is lost early in the Horcrux hunt and it throws the order and timing of events leading to Ministry raid drastically off) .
> 
> 3\. There is a bit of Harry/Hermione in chapter 1, but it ends before chapter 2. If you are worried about pairings, I honestly don't know if there will be more or who will be involved yet.
> 
> Enjoy

A running duel in the Department of Mysteries, excuse me, a second running duel in the Department of Mysteries was not part of the plan for today. Although, I suppose just walking into the Ministry of Magic (as “Undesirable” numbers one and two; mind you) and stealing a powerful dark artifact from a Ministry official, even under polyjuice isn’t much in terms of planning. 

Really the first clue that we had messed up was when people began to recognize the people we were polyjuiced as. We had ambushed the first man and woman pair that we found alone, hoping to sneak in as just two unimportant workers. Perhaps not as quietly as they thought, those we passed muttered and whispered questions and comments: Why were we huddled together? How dare she? What is he thinking? Apparently, Mr. Runcorn was a man known for his outspoken pure-blooded loyalty *cough* *cough* bigotry and was not one to consort with a lowly half-blood of questionable loyalty and possibly even questionably “half-blood” like Hopkirk. Well, you could have bloody well fooled us. When they apparated into the alleyway we were watching… together I might add… and snuck a few quick touches and a kiss, Mr. Runcorn’s delicate pure-blooded sensibilities certainly didn’t look too offended. So when Hermione, only with a slight blush, argued that we should stay very close together in the Ministry, we didn’t think that we would be drawing so many looks. 

The second clue that we royally messed up was when Hermione and I were in line by the front of the security check-in, and a man I did not recognize approached calling for Albert. I was certain he was talking to someone else, so I didn’t even turn to look at him until the third or fourth time he spoke. And the moment I locked eyes with him I just knew he was going to be trouble. He was dressed similarly to the security wizards in a quasi-formal uniform black robe with a small, familiar-looking regalia on its breast, likely denoting his authority over the rest of the security wizards. It struck me suddenly why the regalia was so familiar, Mr. Runcorn was and now I am wearing the same. I hadn’t noticed the similarities in my outfit to the other guards, although I suppose the truly Hermione-like worried look in Hopkirk’s eyes showed that she had likely also just come to the same realization. I tried to dispel his suspicions with a friendly greeting and a warm handshake but a few seconds later Hermione and I were being pulled out of line and brought back to a security room. When I couldn’t provide satisfactory answers to a few of my new friend’s and his associates’ pointed questions they were convinced that I had been confounded maybe even enthralled by the untrustworthy and vile Ms. Hopkirk. When they began inspecting Ms. Hopkirk’s wand and testing me for any sort of controlling magic, I forcefully quelled my rising fears and began plotting on how I could possibly stun two or three alert guards before they could react. Before I could put my plan into action, however, my new friend told the other two guards to take Ms. Hopkirk to the next room over to “interrogate” her. Painful memories of when Ron had become separated in a previous mission and its bloody consequences momentarily stayed my hand and brought an ugly cringe to my face. "Albert are you okay?" The only other person in the room in the room asked. I steadied my face. "Yeah… I’m already feeling better" I offered with a fake smile before springing into action. 

Having freed Hermione and watched her obliviate the three men, we were still somehow hopeful that we could still pull off our theft. Sure, we had a rocky start, and sure we hadn’t made it five minutes into our plan without getting caught, and sure we couldn’t be seen together, but we were inside the ministry with at least thirty minutes of polyjuice left. And Hermione's and my plans usually just worked out for us, I mean, aside from the few times they hadn't. But surely this time. 

The third clue that perhaps we were doomed to fail in our plan was about ten minutes later as we approached the door to Umbridge’s office. Our new strategy of keeping Hermione under the Invisibility Cloak and walking next to me had worked out much better in abating the sneers and hateful looks she was receiving. There was a desk a few meters in front of Umbridge’s office with a rather miserable and frumpy looking woman sitting there. As I approached her I felt Hermione tap my shoulder to let me know she was sneaking forward. After finding out Madam Umbridge was down in the courtrooms, I struggled to hold about a minute of torturous conversation with a rather unwilling and dim witch to buy time for Hermione. A loud thud and muttered curse came from behind the doorway, and a few tense moments later a high pitch alarm sounded. I stunned the assistant from behind as she went to check to the office then ran in to find a frustrated Hopkirk digging through Umbridge's stuff. We fled, Hermione back under the cloak; I rushed around the nearest corner and right into the path of a small group of ministry security wizards including my freshly obliviated friend. I tried downplaying the situation and the alarm, but when one spotted the legs of the stunned witch peeking out from behind her desk a pitched battle erupted in the small hallway. Smart as ever, Hermione realized a fight was coming and circled behind the group under the invisibility cloak and stunned the men summarily. The fight ended quickly, but not before drawing the attention of a larger group of security wizards and witches. Lines of red lights began flashing along the walls of the hallway, as a general alarm went up. We ran in the opposite direction, and towards a bank of elevators, diving into a closing set of doors narrowly avoiding a bright red stunner. The lone occupant of the elevator, a rather startled witch in a nondescript grey cloak with a large obtrusive hood was stunned before she could react. We caught our collective breath and prepared for the elevator to descend to the previously selected floor, the bottom-most number illuminated, “9” the Department of Mysteries. Of all places. 

When the doors dinged open early, we instinctively stunned the pair of similarly grey-clad and hooded wizards before they could enter and stepped over their prone bodies into the elevator bank. I got about four steps out before I heard, "There's Runcorn! Stun him!" from another security group. Not seeing any other option, I grabbed what I presume was Hermione's invisible arm and dove back into the closing doors of the Department of Mysteries bound elevator. Hermione tore off the invisibility cloak, handing it to me and swapped her normal black robe for the downed witch's grey one and said, "They are looking for you, stay near me.". 

The newest iteration of our plan had worked for a while, but when it became apparent that the elevators were deactivated, all we could do was venture deeper into the D.O.M.. We were through the ever confusing carousel room of doors, and a few more odd rooms before our intrusion was first noticed. It had begun when a few of the similarly grey-clad "Unspeakables" had sussed out Hermione's infiltrations, and before long we were running room to room fighting security squads, Unspeakables, and finally, as our polyjuice had ended, Death Eaters. 

We searched for offices with floos, for other elevators, eventually even hoping for stairs. Basement floor be damned, we were desperate to escape, for what had started as a trickle of one, two, or three enemies at a time had begun to swell to larger groups. When we didn’t have the advantage of dueling skill and cover, we would run and set ambushes with Hermione as bait, and myself under the cloak. A close range "bombarda"(exploding hex) would displace the bruised enemies about, and a quick round of stunners and collected wands made short work of several groups before the Death Eaters began to change tactics. 

The fourth clue of how royally fucked we were, as if we really needed any more clues, was precisely where we find ourselves now. Hermione and I are tucked in a dark corner of the Death Veil Room huddled together under the Invisibility Cloak. Yes, the very same room I lost my godfather in not two years ago, the same room I tried my hand at using an "unforgivable" Crucio on Bellatrix. The only differences are that this time The Order is in ruins, and neither Sirius nor Dumbledore are going to save the day either because they are both gone. No Ron, Ginny or Luna as our backup, we are truly alone. Oh, and the three doors to the Death Room are barricaded shut from outside. The Death Eaters know we are here and have been jeering and taunting through their barricades for the past five minutes and I just know it is not long until Riddle himself shows up. I can feel Hermione shaking slightly, her head against my chest, and when I quiet my nervous thoughts I can hear her breathing is jilted and uneasy. I absently run my hand down her back to calm her. She knows this is the end... and I suppose I do too now that I’ve put a word to it. 

Merlin, how did it get to this? We’re the good guys, aren’t we supposed to… I don’t know, win? And how did I manage to drag Hermione into this? I never had much of a chance but she’s supposed to be out there setting the world on fire with her wicked brain and enormous heart, not huddled up next to me preparing herself for death. No, I’ll not allow it. Maybe if I give myself up Tom would let… no, he would kill her, and if for some reason he didn’t she would come after him until he did. Brilliant and caring, but downright stubborn and vengeful this witch could be. So that rules out stunning her and leaving her hidden under the cloak. She would find a way to sneak into the afterlife and take her pound of flesh from me there, plus that would make me like Dumbledore and I won’t have her watch me die exactly how I had to watch him. 

Hermione taking a deep breath and lifting her head dragged me out of my thoughts, but when our eyes met hers weren’t sad, her face wasn’t tear stricken, she didn’t look scared of our upcoming deaths. Instead, I found a stubborn determination in her eyes which was perhaps made a bit cheaper by her hand’s nervous flittering through her hair and the uncertain chewing of her bottom lip. “Well, I suppose I won’t have another chance to say this.” She started, her voice unsteady. “And I’ve wanted to for a while.” She paused, her eyes locked on mine. “What is it, Hermione?” “I just want to thank you for being my best friend and the best thing in my life, could you imagine me without you? I’d be locked away and lonely in a dark library corner, tomes for friends. Instead, you shared your absurd life with me and accepted me how I am.” A smile crept across my face, “Please Hermione… I wouldn’t have you any other way.” I followed with a tight hug. 

From behind my ear, I heard a faint whisper. “I think I might”. I quickly backed out of the hug to question her, but she stopped me before I could. “No, Harry I’ve just been thinking of doing this for the entire time we’ve been alone these past months but haven’t yet worked up the courage.” She took a deep breath and mumbled to herself, ”Never let it be said that Hermione Granger couldn’t work up a bit of Gryffindor courage in the face of death.”. She grabbed the collar of my shirt and pressed her lips to mine. 

Too startled to react, my brain and lips stalled for two very long seconds before mimicking her lips movements with my own. Should I be kissing her? I suppose there’s no harm in it now. Don’t I like Ginny? Well, I hadn’t really thought about Ginny in months. And my dirty thoughts and awkward dreams had taken a decidedly Hermione turn to them since living on the run. Seeing her all the time and accidentally in varying states of partial undress. Perhaps this is what I should have been doing for months. Maybe this is right, and maybe Hermione and I can start a relationship instead? What was I saying? Start a relationship? You idiot Harry, you're about to die, just enjoy what's in front of you. 

Melting into the kiss, I quieted my thoughts and enjoyed the softness of her lips on my own. It wasn’t cold, rushed, and desperate like my Hogsmeade kiss with Cho. And it wasn’t wet, heavy and lip bruisingly passionate like my snogs with Ginny. No, it was soft and warm and wholly pleasant. A bit controlled and proper even. Like what I imagine a well-choreographed dance would feel like, only with a reasonable amount of tongue. 

With some hilariously Harry Potter-like timing, just as our kiss began to heat up a bit, a warm trickle begins to run down my face. A sharp burning sensation then tore down my forehead through my skull as I pushed a flushed Hermione away. 

Startled by the harshness of my action, she opened her eyes to witness my bloody and pained face. Moving forward she captured me in one of her powerful hugs before calmly yet powerfully stating, “So he’s here then. Let’s do this together Harry. Win or lose I’m by your side.”. She placed a gentle kiss on my cheek and another on my lips before stepping back and taking a deep breath. She squared her shoulders, grasped my hand and pulled her wand from her robe just before the barricaded doorway across the room exploded inwards. 

Our fight wasn’t going particularly well. Hermione settled into launching complex(and occasionally dark) spells to (unsuccessfully) try and force Riddle’s attention to her, while I focused on rapid fired and overpowered dueling spells to try and sneak through his guard. But we only held the initiative in the fight for the first few salvos before the Dark Lord’s skill and experience began to press us back. Riddle began to use grand and powerful magics like the sort he and Dumbledore battled with. Beasts of flame, great spheres of water, transfigured and conjured stone guardians, Hermione countered the few she had read about, while I deftly dodged, rolled, and sidestepped what came towards me. I avoided what I could, protected myself from as much as my considerable shields could stand, but Riddle's spells were powerful and I was getting tossed about by what was slipping through. "This is the fabled chosen one? This is Dumbledore's best, with his mud blood pet?" The Dark Lord paused to allow his sidelined followers a chance to laugh then raised a hand to quiet them. I steadied my footing ready to jump aside, hand and wand ready to shield. "You, Harry Potter will die today. You will fall on your knees before the greatest Dark Lord in history and before the day is out yy..". A writhing black spell impacted Riddle's left leg and punctuated his speech with a crack and an inhuman screech. A second spell followed but was batted away by a newly enraged Dark Lord. "Mudblood filth…!" Voldemort fully turned his ire upon Hermione for the first time. "Avada Kedavra!" A green light fled his pointed wand. 

A strangled cry escaped my throat as I watched the spell fly towards Hermione. But she expected this and ducked under it returning a far weaker silent spell. "Avada Kedavra!" Another green curse leaped towards Hermione. She summoned a shard of broken tile from the floor in the way of the spell. Finally escaping my shock, I took a pair of steps in front of the veil and closer to the duel to draw attention from Hermione. I realized I was wasting time and just attacked. "Bombarda!" I screamed. It wasn't a killing curse, but it was as strong as I could cast and with every bit of my ill intent. Riddle turned and shielded almost before the hex left my wand, and had begun on another killing curse before it hit. Instead of smashing into and absorbing into the dark lord's shield, the spell landed short into the rough and battered stone tiles in front of him. The shrapnel from the explosive hex cut straight through the specialized magical protection and several shards embedded themselves into the dark lord himself. Including one slicing his hand knocking his wand to the floor. 

The dark lord screamed but still dodged Hermione's next spell. "That wand wasn't working for me anyway.". He pulled out another. His murderous eyes focused on mine and the scar sizzled on my forehead. "Avada Kedavra!" This time Riddle aimed at me. 

I tried to spin away from the verdant spell but my feet stumbled over the edge of the raised platform behind me. As I slowly tipped backward, I heard the reassuring buzz of whispering from the veil behind and Hermione’s worried inhale. The spell casually marched across the distance and I found myself wondering if Sirius was amongst the whisperers to welcome me. Is this going to hurt, can I survive a second time, what would Hermione and I be up to now if Riddle hadn't shown up. My mind swam in a dozen directions as I watched the familiar green spell reach my chest and splash against it. I felt a push against my chest and registered Hermione's desperate cry. Black replaced the waking world and an encompassing, almost echoing silence replaced Hermione's cry. The whispering veil quieted as well. 

My eyes opened to a sterile white light. My surprisingly nude backside suddenly rested against a cold hard floor. Adjusting to the light my eyes recognized the ceiling above. It was a train station if I recalled, yes platform 9 ¾ in Kings Cross. Why was I nude, why was I alive, was I alive? I lifted my head and began to climb up to my feet as the world suddenly went dark again.

**Author's Note:**

> Liked it? Tell me what you enjoyed about it and any suggestions you may have.  
Didn't like it? Tell me why as well.


End file.
